


A strange meeting

by FidesInCore



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Drabble, First Impressions, Gen, Old Work, POV John Watson, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FidesInCore/pseuds/FidesInCore
Summary: Sherlock and John meet without Mike intervining.
Kudos: 7





	A strange meeting

**Author's Note:**

> So I was going through my old documents and found a couple of things that I either publish somewhere else or not publish at all (I actually can't remember if this is in any other place). So I was like "let's check this and upload it".  
> So please don't be too harsh on me, this has so many years. I just checked it and corrected some errors, but I'm sure there are still some of them, cause (you can probably tell) I'm not a native speaker.  
> Anyhow, hope you enjoy it.

Well, I don't usually write this much but today something actually happened to me. I met a very… odd (I don't know if that's the right word but that's why what pops on the top of my head when I think of him) man.

I had just gone out for a coffee and to get a newspaper. I had been reading about the “serial suicides” and looking for a flat that I could afford. I had just finished my coffee when I was standing from my table outside the coffee shop when I heard “Mr soldier, stop that man in the brown jacket!”. I turned to where the voice had come. Running towards me came a man with a brown jacket so, without really thinking, I used my cane to make him fall. When I saw him on the ground, I suddenly realized what I’ve done and felt a little guilty for just reacting. But before I could apologize a tall man in a dark blue coat arrived. “Good job Mr. Soldier. I didn't expect the murderer to run that fast” he said calmly. I was so shocked that I couldn't really form actual sentences, “What…? How did you…? Who…?” I babbled. “What did I just said? That he's a murderer. How did I know you're a soldier? It's written all over your face and posture. And finally, who am I? The name is Sherlock Holmes”, he said so arrogantly that I wanted to punch him in the face. But at the same time, I was so impressed that he has understood the nonsensical questions that I didn't.

The man on the floor tried to escape again but we immediately run after him and catch him. Just a couple minutes after that a police car arrived and a man in a suit and grey hair got out. “Lestrade, here is your murderer. If you go to his house you'll find the poison… by the look of it, I bet in a secret compartment in the floor. Even Anderson can do that much”, he mucked. “You shouldn't just go off running and not even explain where the bloody hell you're going in the middle of a conversation”, the other man responded. “You have your murderer, don't you? So stop being so annoying”. The suited man took the man in the brown jacket into the police car and leave without another word.

I was about to go home too, so I started walking when he said “Tell me, were you in Iraq or Afghanistan?”. I was so startled that I just answered automatically “Afghanistan”. But then it turned even weirder, “I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't speak in days. And others I arrive late, or not at all, to home. I also like to do experiments at home. Do you have any problem with this? Do you have particularities yourself?”, I didn't answer. What the hell was going on with him? “I mean potential flatmates should know the worst of each other”, and that did make me answer, “Flatmates? Why do you think we're potential flatmates? We don’t know anything about each other”. He smiled and simply said “Why not? I know that you’re a soldier recently returning from Afghanistan, that your therapist thinks that you have psychosomatic limp and I must agree, that you have a sense of justice and that you miss the action. That’s all I need to know. I'm looking for someone to rent a flat with and you're looking for cheap accommodation. Surely sharing expenses is the best way”. No need to say that I was even more shocked than before, “How do you even know that?” “You let your newspaper on the table, you were looking at classifies. And a recently dismissed soldier returning for Afghanistan is probably short on money. Am I wrong?”, he smiled again. “No” was all I could reply. He let out a little laugh and said “Maybe what I’m missing is your name” “John Watson”, this was really nothing compared with what he already knew. “Let's meet tomorrow at 10 o'clock to check a flat I'm interested in. The address is 221b Baker Street. See you tomorrow John”, and he just left.

When I returned to my flat I googled him and found an odd website, as odd as its author. But I must say that it was the first thing that has happened to me since I returned from Afghanistan, so I might as well give it a shot. Also, I want to know how in hell he knew all that about me.


End file.
